


Not Going to Lose You

by wintervioleteye (hawkguyed)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Captain America has a ladle, Clint is a BAMF too, Community: avengerkink, Flying Ladles, Gen, Hostage Situation, Tony's arrowhead of technological win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkguyed/pseuds/wintervioleteye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, working alongside super-heroes means that some of them tend to forget what exactly Clint is capable of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a fill for [avengerkink](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/3266.html?thread=888258#t888258), where someone takes Clint hostage and Phil freezes.

Clint looks almost bored, even though there's a gun pressed against his temple and the rest of his team are on edge thanks to the intruder who's managed to sneak into their mansion – it's stupid really, considering all the villians they frequently combat – some street-rat who'd honestly just broken in for personal profit instead.

JARVIS had sounded the alarm the minute the robber had crossed the threshold, and predictably, the man had panicked, taking the first person he ran into as hostage.

Even though the first person happening to be one Clint Barton, who had been reclined on a couch watching Top Gun.

Tony and Steve emerge into the room moments later, the former half-armored with a pair of visor-goggle thing over his eyes – he'd been testing some new armaments down in the lab – and the latter wielding what looks like a ladle, and Clint tries hard not to laugh at how comical his two teammates look. Phil and Natasha follow, guns drawn, only to falter and stop at the sight. Bruce and Thor are the only two who aren't there, the scientist being at the lab at SHIELD headquarters and Thor in Asgard executing his kingly duties.

“Drop the guns,” the little brat shouts at them, pushing the gun closer to Clint's head.

Out of all the reactions the entire team (plus agent) has, no-one expects Coulson to be the first to drop his gun. Clint merely sends his boyfriend a quizzical look, as if this happens on a daily basis. He grins jauntily at them, fingering the arrowhead in his pocket that he'd been fiddling with before the movie had come on.

Then it hits him. It doesn't show on his features, which are carefully blank, but Clint can see the fear in his lover's eyes.

Coulson is afraid.

The rest of the team don't make any move to back off – he's pretty sure that Tony's already got a target set up and prepared to fire, while Steve looks as if he might just throw the ladle. The thought alone makes him want to laugh, even though he really shouldn't. Natasha simply looks murderous, and Clint's willing to bet that she's trying to kill his captor with her glare alone.

“Sir, might I recommend -” JARVIS' voice comes out of nowhere and the man starts again.

“JARVIS, now is not the time!” Tony scowls up at one of the cameras he knows is around, and immediately the AI shuts up, recognizing the severity of the situation.

“You know,” he starts conversationally, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he tips his head back to get a view of his captor. “You really should have a plan next time you decide to break into a mansion full of people who can kick your ass.”

“Shut up!” The man behind him yells – all brawn, no guts, no brain either, Clint guesses – and hits him with the butt of the gun.

Okay, now that hurt, and out of a corner of his eye, he's aware that his teammates have tensed.

Clint sighs.

The problem with being only human – something both him and Natasha are intimately familiar with – and working alongside super-powered heroes is that some of them tend to forget what exactly they're capable of.

Three things happen at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

When the alarm goes off, what Coulson doesn't expect to see is Clint, on his knees with a gun held to his head.

It takes him a few moments to realize that the creeping ice that grips him is fear, fear that the robber will not hesitate to put a bullet into the archer's head if he feels threatened. So when the man yells for them to put the gun down, he's the first one to do so, despite the surprised, sidelong glances the team gives him.

Having to send Clint out there where he can easily get killed every single time already gnaws at him, and the scenario presented before him is the final straw that breaks the camel's back.

The team is more than prepared to strike, to take out the threat, but Coulson isn't.

Phil is terrified. Under that stoic mask, he can hear the silent breaking of all the fortress walls he'd put up, and it's only by some form of miracle that nothing shows on his face.

The archer is mouthy, snarky, and all around annoying, but at the same time the sandy-haired man is patient, loyal, and perfect. He can't lose Clint, not like this, not in front of him, not without saying or doing something or telling him he loves him –

A gunshot goes off, and Coulson's world is thrown out into chaos.

–

Everything happens in a split second.

Clint is going to thank Tony later, properly, for converting Stane's sonic paralyzing device into a prototype arrowhead. That is, when the effect of using it in close range wears off, and his ears stops ringing from the gunshot at such close range.

He'd slipped the arrowhead out of his pocket and activated – detonated, whatever – it, jamming the thing against his captor's knee for better measure, and the man goes down with a strangled gasp of pain. Across the room, Tony flinches, remembering first hand experience of being on the receiving end of it. Not the most pleasant scenario, and this time, he's glad it's not him on the other end.

The second thing that happens is the gun going off, and in so close range it actually hurts his ears, making him flinch. Yet at the same time Clint is thankful that he'd moved and that his captor has terrible, terrible close-range aim; because really, who was going to miss at almost point-blank range? It's ridiculous, really, any Clint is surprised that his captor had actually managed to not shoot himself in the foot for all the gun-waving he'd been doing.

The third thing that happens is that both Steve and Natasha let loose their projectile of choice; Steve's ladle connects with the intruder's head, and Natasha's daggers embed themselves in his arm. Tony practically launches himself forward and tackles their intruder; Clint doesn't particularly envy the man, Tony in armor can be pretty heavy. The gun clatters away under the couch, as all six feet (and maybe four hundred pounds, Clint has no intention of asking Tony to weigh himself in the suit) of Iron Man collides with a scrawny street-rat.

Clint lets out the breath he'd been holding, slumping forward, and Coulson scrambles forward to gather the archer into his arms.

The rest of the team busy themselves with removing the offending intruder from the mansion with a little more force than strictly necessary; while both agent and archer huddle against one another on the carpeted floor. Out of a corner of his eye, Clint watches Natasha dragging a limp body away, catching the litany of Russian curses before she disappears out of sight, Steve and Tony trailing behind. He kinda pities the guy, 'Tasha on the warpath is just scary, no matter how you look at it.

Clint buries his face against Coulson's neck.

“I'm okay, Phil, really.”

His words are muffled by Coulson's shoulder, leaning against the older man, hands fisted tightly in his shirt. Now that the adrenaline has drained away, Clint just wants to go back to the couch, curl up with his boyfriend and reassure the older man that he hasn't lost him even though he had a gun against his head just moments ago.

"Don't you dare do something like that again," the older man hisses, arms wrapped possessively around Clint's body.

Clint manages a chuckle, amusement coloring over worry, as he presses a kiss against Coulson's neck.

"Love you too, babe."

Then one of Coulson's callused hands reaches up, running through Clint's short, spiky brown hair. It's like this every time Clint comes home from a high-profile assignment, worse if he's managed to get himself bruised or bloody; Coulson will run his hands over every single inch of his frame as if to confirm that Clint is still there, still alive.

It doesn't matter that the other three have returned, quietly watching over the two.

It doesn't matter if they know - and Clint knows, from the knowing look on Natasha's face, that they've finally figured it out too, the one weakness that Coulson will never openly admit to.

Coulson will do anything to keep Clint safe.


End file.
